DC Circuits: Gotham's Dar(K)Nights
by shikyoseinen
Summary: In a city filled with crime, freaks and corruption it is only a single step away from an all out war in Gotham. Starting on 1st December 2014, a secret war is brewing with dynamic duo Batman and Robin on the case! Part of the DC Circuits Series.


**I am not writing for profit whatsoever just a project from my old Fate of Earth16B that didn't work out so well last year.**

**Every DC Circuits story is interrelated with each other so look out for cross-references I make.**

**Oh, and I would also want to thank my Beta Reader for all his help XD **

**The characters don't belong to me. They belong to DC Comics and Type Moon studio. So far, I will create original stories and/or adapting canon to suit my needs with references. **

**DC: Circuits: Gotham's Dar(K)Nights**

**Prologue**

"Are we there yet!?" Hanging onto dear life, a bespectacled man who is supposed to be resting at home after dealing with another day medicating the criminally insane asked the person he's clutching onto. Being a respectable man of his position, one would expect that he'll return home to after work to have a nice cold glass of beer a few times over after dealing with multiple patients checking in and out from his asylum with doctors he hired dead, resigning or continuing their jobs to do the impossible.

Instead, he's going on a wild goose chase with a family friend he would have referred him as an uncle should this man is still alive a century ago.

Being a city kid all his life, he has never felt the sensation of riding a horse nor did he displayed interest of joining any Equestrian club growing up in Gotham City. Rich snobs and capitalist scumbags aside, only Gotham's social elites has the privilege to experience horse riding and unfortunately the director is not among the rich.

"Shut yer yappin will ya?" The rider retorted. "We're almost there!" Indeed both men are nearby the designated location.

The man who dragged the poor director from his daily routine on the other hand, seems to be unaffected from the constant complaints he's been hearing for the entire trip. Being a wanderer all his life, he hardly take orders from anybody and instead does his own things even on a whim whether everybody likes it or not.

" I think I have cramps..." The man with glasses would have kissed the ground underneath his leather shoes the moment he got off the steed.

And with that, the horse named General vanished into thin air like it never existed in the mortal realm.

If one looks closely deep into the mountains outside Wayne Manor, there is he entrance is as large as a giant's mouth with bats swarming inside the darkness every night.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" The horse rider asked. He entered through the waterfall stream without fear. Behind him, the director dashed in to avoid getting himself wet.

The first man in particular led the expedition; a matchstick in hand used to light his cigars. Luckily for him, his pockets were thick enough to be waterproof. The same goes for his hat as the trip to enter the cave was not easy as it sounds. On another hand, he is dressed in a Confederate army uniform from the American Civil war.

The second person in particular does not display the same amount of confidence as the first. Being the head of Arkham Asylum, there is a limit to how many times he exercises while busy with his tedious work every day of the year. He nearly lost his spectacles from the jump; only to be saved from the person he referred to as his servant.

The director would have gasped from the close up look of his servant's face but the man's complexion doesn't seem to affect him at all. The man dragging the poor doctor looked as if helping out an old friend from his past life but such soft attitude quickly changed to become aggressive and harsh as if holding a grudge towards the same person.

Nevertheless, their journey continues.

"I don't see why I have to be here Archer." At first glance, Director Jeremiah Arkham is the last person you would expect to be a master for the fifth grail war. "You have Independent Action skill don't you? Why don't you come here by yourself?" Being a proper magus, he is more than aware to observe his servant's status screen from his eyes and the facts presented him does not lie about the heroic spirit's parameters. "Besides, I can see whatever you're seeing from my office!" He blurted out the part where the masters of the grail wars have the privilege to share vision with their respective servants.

Besides, for his servant to drag him along towards an unexplored cave can also be interpreted as entering a magus's workshop from the front door. So far, he has yet to detect any boundary field surrounding the area but the anxiety remained. He can feel his own heart beating in his chest as he took in his surroundings, wondering whether he should do something to defend himself against enemy attacks. _So far so good..._He thought to himself. If there is any indication that the cave is a magus's workshop it is either non-existent or was snuffed out by enforcers. In his mind, he liked the first idea better.

"Independent whatever you call it I need you on sight so you won't get killed by a stray bullet while I'm gone." Servant Archer replied. The gun-toting heroic spirit spat on the ground; making his master winces from such lack of hygiene. "Wouldn't want our partnership end too quickly don't we?" He spoke from experience. Leaving an open target all by themselves is a rookie mistake especially since the servant himself has experience shooting down idiots like that leaving their hostages before walking into range of his guns outside their hiding spots.

"This place is crawling with bacteria..." He groaned, keeping a close eye on the bats hanging from the cavern ceiling. "It's...unhygienic!" He compared the state of the cave to the bloody wards back in Arkham. Being a former doctor himself, he prioritized hygiene in his work environment and this habit stayed with him in his job at the administration level of the asylum.

"Want to stay outside with the mountain wolves? Be my guess." Archer offered an alternative. "Keep a lookout will ya?" He added; thick in southern accent.

Jeremiah look at the entrance and his servant back and forth; yelping at the sound of flapping wings from the flying bats above him. "Never mind I'll just stick with you."

"Smart man." Archer looked back at his master with slight disdain if his exposed right eye has anything to say about it. "If it makes you feel any better _master_ I know my way around here. Been in this place one time in my life with an _old friend._" The servant explained.

"I-I see." Jeremiah nodded. "So you already know your way around here then."

"This place's ripe for a hiding place. Found an old tribe right here." The servant elaborated. "Oh, and I am expecting another giant bat like last time to be here too." He reminisced the past; sighing. To make his point, he didn't even notice his master gasping in fright.

"What! You brought me here knowing something like **_that_ **crawling inside this cave!?" The master proceed to ramble words the servant did not even bother to listen though at the very least the Arkham Asylum's director made an effort to lecture his servant about taking him to dangerous places and keeping things down at the same time. If anything, the heroic spirit blinked that the wimpy man he called his master can nag like a woman.

Being a legendary bounty hunter in his previous life, the servant led the expedition inside the mystery cave with his master tagging along for the ride behind him. Unlike the frightened doctor, the heroic spirit held his head high with his cowboy hat intact on his head without fear of being turned into food by the local wildlife inside enemy territory.

Most importantly, he remembered coming here inside the cave outside the Wayne Manor.

"Jackpot." His half-disfigured face made his smirk look terrifying; enough to frighten a man to submission. The servant took out a cigar from his pocket, lighting it with the matchstick he hold onto earlier. Immediately, he tossed the sole orb of light onto the ground. Just for good measure, he stomped it with his boot.

As a result of this, the light from the cigarette in his mouth lighted up his facial complexion to frightening proportions.

Armed with a pair of Eagle-Gripped, Black Powder Colt Single Action .45's manufactured in the late 1880s, the servant drew his weapons from it's holsters around his waist the moment his ears twitched from a noise distant from their location.

Instantly, bullets appeared from thin air; inserting themselves into the barrel of both guns in his hands.

"What? What's going on Archer?" Jeremiah's glasses nearly fell from his face; rushing towards his servant immediately.

"Getting ready to fight." The servant stated the obvious. "You stay back where it's safe master this won't take long." He ordered.

The master instantly hid himself deep into the darkness to avoid getting caught in the crossfire between two servants or worse getting himself killed by an enemy master by accident. "Whatever you do get me out of here as soon as possible" he found a hiding spot behind a stalagmite; poking his head one last time to remind his servant before the battle commences.

"Whatever you say master." The servant looked back at him; prompting his anchor to the living world to nearly wet his pants from the sight of the heroic spirit's face.

Archer can only be described with one word: hideous. Half of his face is disfigured by magecraft with his right eyeball still moving inside its socket. Despite that, his facial condition doesn't seem to affect the servant at all.

Like a vengeful ghost, the servant appeared from the darkness as the sole source of light from his smoke lighted his facial complexion against his enemies. He walked slowly towards the enemy's workshop without showing fear. Why would he? He was a bounty Hunter in the old Wild West. People feared him as well as respected him for what he has done and there are at least 336 dead bodies minimum to back up his claim.

"Howdy." Archer greeted. At the very least, the servant wanted his big debut fight flashy and impressionable to other heroic spirits across the time stream. The face he showed ensures his advantage of attacking first by affecting the enemy servant with status ailment: fear. Furthermore, the enemy master was rendered startled by his personal skill. In his previous life, his victims recognized their killer with the last sight of his disfigured face; attributing it to a a demon.

With one good eye on his left, he spotted an enemy servant dressed up in a flying rat costume. Next to him is a circus kid wearing bright colors he would have laughed at should the situation is less tense than it is.

The enemy servant got into battle stances the moment Archer introduced himself out or courtesy while the kid in costume continued to gape at him like a fish.

"Hate to interrupt your little get together down here but-"He flashed his mystic face towards the enemies. "Job's a job." He referred to the master and servant pair. "Still, fate sure does you wonders." Being a bounty hunter all his life, believing in fate and destiny is bullcrap to him. "The last time I was down here I fought a _**bat**_."

_Click! Click!_

"This time I fight a _**man**__**."**_

_BANG!BANG!_

**END**

**Well, I was inspired by Fate Apocrypha's prologue I want to try this for myself and see what happens. Basically, it shows that the war is no child's play if Batman's HQ underneath the manor already has been compromised by a servant. **

**To those who read The New 52, yeah I admit I makes use of the comic as a base for this particular servant, mostly because it's current and I expect most of you guys are reading what's available since 2011. **

**Note that I am not adapting The New 52 100%. References from Pre-new 52 is included in DC Circuits. **

**Read and review!**


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